


Trouble

by heavylead



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, FC Barcelona, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Discipline, Spanking, i am so fucked up why did i write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavylead/pseuds/heavylead
Summary: A really bizarre idea that I couldn't stop thinking about, wherein Neymar gets spanked by the whole team.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise in advance, i just couldn't get the thought of this out of my head

Neymar doesn’t know when it became a thing and neither does the rest of the team. It started with the occasional slap on the ass, maybe a bit harder and a few more when he’d really fucked up, but it escalated after that.

Neymar had been really angry once, storming around a mostly empty changing room. The only other person in the room was Gerard, who was just watching him with folded arms and a raised eyebrow from the corner.

“Ney, you should really calm down,” he said. “I know we lost but the others will be here in a bit and all of them will be in a bad attitude if you are.”

The younger man glared at him and said in a loud voice, “I’m not going to fucking calm down, _Gerard._ We haven’t won a game in weeks! What the fuck’s wrong with us?”

“Calm _down,_ Ney.” Gerard’s voice was getting louder, too. “We’ll win again soon, don’t worry. We’re just in a bit of a drought right now.”

“Fuck droughts!” he exclaimed. “I want to win _now,_ goddammit! We deserve to fucking win!”

He grabbed a can of deodorant and flung it across the room, watching it crash into the wall. Gerard didn’t say anything and, breathing heavily, he looked up through his lashes at his teammate. He sat there with a passive look on his voice before saying, “Okay, come here. I’ve had enough.”

Neymar’s eyes flashed and he said, _“What?”_

“I said, come here,” Gerard said calmly. “I know you preach maturity but I think someone needs to put you in your place.”

Neymar snorted and moved away, unsure of what his teammate was saying. As he turned around, though, he felt a strong hand grab his forearm and soon, he found himself flung over Gerard’s lap.

“What the—?” he didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his shorts were tugged down and a painful smack was sent to his ass. “What the fuck, Gerard? What are you — _ow!_ — doing?”

“Giving you what you deserve,” Gerard said determinedly, laying heavy smacks onto Neymar’s ass.

Neymar squirmed, trying to get away but Gerard was, sadly, a lot taller than him and pinned him down with his arms. The slaps hurt like _hell_ and when he realised that he wouldn’t be able to get away physically, he decided to try verbally.

“You can’t fucking do this!” he exclaimed. “I — I’m not a fucking five year old!”  

“But you act like one,” Gerard pointed out, pulling down his briefs. Once he’d done this, Neymar started to kick, trying to get away. He just started to smack his thighs, instead, so hard that he was sure his hand would bruise.

Neymar let out a high-pitched noise, a few tears springing to his eyes. He was a goddamn adult, why was he crying at a _spanking?_

Once he’d stopped kicking, Gerard moved back to his ass. The sound of Gerard’s hand hitting skin echoed throughout the room, the only other noise accompanying it being Neymar’s choked crying. He was trying so hard to keep his sobs in, not wanting to embarrass himself by crying in front of his teammate, but it was getting progressively more difficult as the minutes droned on.

“You know,” Gerard said conversationally, which almost made Neymar snort considering the situation, “You’ve had this coming for awhile, now. This isn’t just because of you today — this is mostly because of everything else you’ve been doing these past few months.” He landed a heavy smack, causing Neymar to lift his head and yelp. “You’ve been rude to everyone, lashing out when it’s unnecessary. You’re late almost every practice, you’ve been partying far too much to be good for your schedule, and God, you’ve been complaining almost every single goddamn game. You’re acting like a _toddler,_ Neymar. This has to stop.”

His smacks were getting harder and harder and Neymar could feel the tears building up behind his eyes, the choked sobs starting to come from his mouth. When he didn’t say anything, Gerard started to slap the part between his thigh and ass, which was the icing on the cake. He let out a sob, spitting apologies.

 _“I-I’m sorry!”_ he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Geri, please, please… I won’t be such a dick, I’ll be on time, just — _please!”_

Gerard smiled slightly, glad that it actually worked. He had discussed this with Luis awhile back, and the two of them hadn’t been entirely sure it would have an effect on Neymar. Well, they’d been proven wrong now.

He smacked down twenty more times, causing Neymar to deflate, choking on his sobs. Gerard left him to lay on his lap for awhile afterwards, at first to calm down but as the time went on it was more to make him realise where he was.

“Can I — Can I get up?” he asked meekly, trying to turn his head to look at the older man. He just shook his head.

“No, you’re gonna stay here for a bit more,” he said, rubbing his back gently. This just caused him to start crying again, hanging his head in defeat.

After five more minutes, Gerard finally lifted him up, pulling his shorts up and balancing him on his right leg. “You alright?” he asked softly.

The younger man nodded, wet lashes sticking to his skin as he blinked. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough from crying, “I’m sorry, Geri. I really am.”

“It’s okay,” he said, “You’re forgiven, Ney. Don’t worry.”

They heard the sound of laughter coming from outside the door and Neymar stood up quickly from his place on Gerard’s leg. The door opened and the rest of the team poured in, Gerard soon standing. He sent Neymar a knowing look before going to greet everyone. The latter blushed and looked down, knowing that he wouldn’t forget this anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh... yeah. geri isn't gonna be the only one to spank neymar -- plenty more to come. if you want to give me prompts, i'm down for that. other than that, i'll just be updating this whenever i get a new idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ney's a dick in this. I feel like that'll be a running theme in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY _OKAY_ i have some 'splainin to do before you read this
> 
> so, the timeline in this is ... not realistic at all. ney, he's like ... twenty one in this (mostly because like ... i prefer his hair when he was twenty one, and younger ney is adorable), although he's actually twenty four, and like ... if he were twenty one, that'd make this 2013, but andré is in this, and andré joined like last july or whatever, so like ... let's just pretend that ney was born three years later than he actually was. that'll make everything easier. also, dani's probably gonna be in this. and he's still gonna be in barça, in 2016. because time can suck my ass, it's all an illusion anyway.

Neymar was in a bad mood, that much was obvious. He stomped into the changing room before practice, a grumpy look on his face. Gerard exchanged a look with Suárez, shaking his head in a way that said neither of them needed to step in (yet).

Neymar began to change into his training clothes, grumbling under his breath. The goddamn paparazzi had been harassing him the whole weekend and he was fucking _sick_ of it. He loved football, but sometimes the fame that came with playing it professionally was too much to handle.

“Everything alright, Ney?” Gerard asked casually, sitting next to him on a bench. “Need to get something off your chest?” 

“No,” he said shortly, eyes dark as he reached down to tie his shoes.

Suárez came up behind him and gave him a hard smack to the ass, causing him to gasp out and turn around, fuming.

“You sure?” Luis said, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” Neymar snapped, his cheeks red. It was early before practice, thus they were the only three in the room, but soon the others would arrive, and he really didn’t want to deal with the humiliation of his whole team watching him getting his ass beat today.

Luis looked at Gerard with a look that said, _what now?_ The latter just shrugged and shook his head.

They left Neymar alone after that, which caused relief to flood through him. He sat back down and began tying his shoes again, muttering creative Portuguese swears under his breath. The changing room door opened and Leo walked in, followed by André, both waving at Luis and Gerard.

Eventually, all the others showed up. The room was soon filled with casual conversation and laughter. Everyone was talking, except Neymar, who was grumpily sitting down and glaring at his water bottle like it had murdered his family.

Rafinha came up to him, eyes crinkled. “Hey, Ney,” he said, sitting next to him, “How was your weekend?”

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafa’s eyebrows furrowed and he said, “Are you sure? Did something happen?” 

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” Neymar said.

“Really? Because … you don’t seem that sure.”

Logically, Neymar knew Rafa was just being nice, but right now he wasn’t in the mood. “I’m fucking _sure,_ Rafa, how many times do I have to say it to get it through your goddamn head? Or are you too stupid?”

The room went silent as Rafa stood up, a hurt look on his face. “I… I’m sorry…” he said, shuffling away, but Neymar was in too much of a bad mood to really care.

André glared at Neymar and said, “The fuck is your problem?”, which was surprising as he hadn’t talked too much to Neymar since he’d joined. He went after Rafa after that, and soon the sound of sneakers running on a linoleum echoed through the room.

Neymar’s fists were clenched and he let out a heavy breath, looking up at his teammates. They were all staring at him with varying expressions of anger, confusion, or just disappointment. He faltered after seeing them all and looked down at his legs, yelping when he was suddenly yanked up by his forearm and thrown over Luis’s shoulder. He kicked his legs, letting out a loud whine that he really wasn’t proud of and would have sounded more at home coming from a five-year old. “Lu _iiiiiiiiiiiis!”_

He was carried out of the dressing room like a disobedient toddler throwing a tantrum and down the hallway to one of the many empty rooms in Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, Barça’s training facility. There were some chairs stacked in the corner and Luis reached out with one hand to grab one, his other holding down Neymar. He sat down and threw the younger man over his lap, causing the former to gasp, the air leaving his lungs for a few seconds.

Luis didn’t even say anything, just whipping his shorts and briefs off before _slamming_ his hand down. Neymar let out a high-pitched yelp, kicking his legs and trying to get off of the older man’s lap. “Luis, _please,_ I’m sorry, you don’t need to spank me, please—“

“You know, I deal with a lot of your shit, Neymar,” Luis said, crashing his hand down, “But I’ll only deal with it when it’s directed towards _me_ — but when you start pulling some shit on someone else, especially someone who’s _younger_ than you, that’s where I cross the line. You’ve been in a bad mood for awhile, but I’ve been letting it go because I thought you were just having a bad week, but apparently _not._ So now, you’re going to pay the price.”

Neymar started to cry as it continued, the smacks getting harder and harder. Luis always spanked a lot harder than Gerard, which Neymar resented him for. His ass always hurt for days on end after Luis had dealt with him.

“I-I’m sorry!” he hiccupped. _“Please,_ Luis! I’m sorry—!”

He could hear Luis’s heavy breathing slow slightly, and then the smacks slowed too. They didn’t get any lighter, but at least they had more time between them. Neymar choked on a sob and spluttered apologies, hanging his head. Eventually, the slaps began to slow down even more, before stopping and being replaced by a comforting hand on his back.

“It’s alright, Ney,” Luis murmured. He wasn’t the best at comforting, but he tried. “It’s alright…”

Neymar sniffled, letting himself be manoeuvred up onto Luis’s lap. He buried his face in the older man’s shoulder and cried, not caring that he was a grown man.

“You’re forgiven, Ney,” Luis said, pulling up his briefs and shorts. “Now, first you have to go apologise to Rafa, and then you’re going to go find Geri, who, I’d imagine, has a bit more of a punishment for you.”

Neymar pulled his head back, a scared look in his eyes. “I… I don’t…”

Luis grinned, “You’re not going to get spanked more, if that’s what you’re wondering. But he’ll think of something.”

Neymar frowned, wanting to argue but knowing that it would be futile. Instead, he simply just sighed and hung his head again, allowing Luis to pick him up. He swung his legs around his waist and was carried out of the room, back to the dressing room. Practice was bound to start soon, but Luis was pretty sure they still had a few minutes.

The changing room went silent when they entered, everyone turning to look at them. Rafa was sipping from a water bottle in the corner and glanced over at them, before looking back down.

Once Neymar was set down, he raced over to the younger man and threw him arms around him. “Eu sinto muito,” he said.

Rafa stiffened at first but melted into the embrace, chuckling. “Tude bem,” he said, and pulled away with crinkled eyes. “Não se preocupe.”

Neymar bit his lip and smiled, hearing Iniesta shout from somewhere outside that practice would be starting soon. He turned around to go onto the pitch as everyone else started to, but was held back by a familiar strong arm. He sighed as everyone poured out of the room. When they were finally alone, he looked up at Gerard. “Luis guessed this would happen.”

Gerard grinned. “Well, he guessed correctly. I’m not angry at you anymore, Ney, but I’m still going to ground you.”

Neymar raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

“I said that you’re going to be grounded,” Gerard said easily. “For the next two weeks. That doesn’t mean you stay completely at your home, obviously, it just means that you only go where you’re needed to. Games, practice, and such. Other than that, you stay at home — no partying or anything of the sort.”

Neymar opened and closed his mouth like a fish underwater. “I… I…”

“I’d assume that you’re trying to say you agree with me.”

“That — That’s ridiculous!” he finally spat. “You can’t… I’m… I’m _twenty-one!_ You can’t ground me like some… some incompetent teenager.”

“Well,” Gerard began, “Then what am I doing right now?”

Neymar stared at him incredulously and huffed. “That’s not _fair,_ though.”

“And I don’t think what you said to Rafa was very fair, either, Neymar,” the older man said, swinging an arm around his shoulder and ruffling his hair. “Now, c’mon, we got practice — you better try hard, because I doubt that sore ass is gonna help you at all.”

“Fuck off,” Neymar said, although he was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obviously, i love seeing neymar treated like a little kid. he's just so goddamn cute i can't help it
> 
> give me prompts if you want me to write something in specific, though! i'm always down for that


End file.
